Page 33 of Out of Time (Undaunted Courage #3)

EIGHTEEN

ALL DRESSED UP AND NO PLACE TO GO.

What a bummer.

Expelling a breath, Cara made a face at her phone. Set it on the desk in the cottage.

Brad had been super apologetic, but when two young children went missing in your jurisdiction and the state patrol was called in to assist, duty took precedence over a date.

Totally understandable.

Also totally disappointing.

But finding those kids was way more important than a cozy dinner for two. And Brad had promised to reschedule ASAP.

Cara wandered over to the fridge in the cottage and opened the door. Surveyed the freezer compartment. Her initial stash of microwave dinners stared back at her, untouched, thanks to Natalie’s generous invitation to join her for evening meals.

If Steven hadn’t arrived for his weekend visit a day early, she’d mosey over to the house and suggest treating her hostess to dinner at the diner in town, as she had on a couple of previous occasions.

Or she could knock on the door, tell Natalie about the canceled date, and ask to borrow two eggs. Knowing her bene factor, an invitation to join her and Steven for dinner would follow.

But much as she enjoyed the company of Natalie’s cousin, she was too geared up for a date with Brad to socialize with a different man, no matter how charming and handsome he was.

A frozen meal would have to suffice.

After selecting one of the dinners, she put it in the microwave and set the timer. Then she stepped out of her heels, padded across the floor to her closet, and pulled out her most comfortable pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. No need to impress anyone tonight with a chic ensemble.

It didn’t take long to eat her dinner once the microwave pinged, leaving the whole empty evening to fill.

May as well work.

She moved to the desk chair, booted up her laptop, and dug in.

Three hours of intensive research and writing later, her brain finally balked.

No surprise.

She’d been at it since nine o’clock this morning, beginning with a two-hour translation session followed by an afternoon of more research and writing.

Maybe she’d cuddle up in bed with her laptop and read through Marie’s journal. Their daily word-by-word translations were more about sentence integrity than overall flow, and it would be helpful to read it in one fell swoop for continuity.

After taking care of her nightly bedtime routine, she flipped off the lights in the cottage and retreated to the bed. The screen would provide sufficient illumination for her purposes.

Once she’d stacked the pillows behind her, she began on page one and went straight through the journal, lingering over the entries from this week.

More and more, Marie’s jottings were filled with mentions of the mysterious man—who could be Paul Coleman’s grandfather, according to the story Natalie had told her on Monday morning.

A prominent politician in his day, known throughout the state and in Washington.

Also very married, with a son.

Marie’s reluctance to use his name suggested he could, indeed, be the man who’d turned her head with pretty talk and made her dream of a life he never intended to offer her.

So far, however, their dalliance seemed to be comprised of stolen moments of conversation, nothing more.

Whether that changed remained to be seen.

She could always suggest that they look ahead, skip to the final entries, and translate those. Surely they’d contain answers.

But Natalie had said from day one that she preferred to go through the journals in the order they were written, and she was the boss.

Whatever they found, though, Cara agreed with Natalie.

Telling the world about any scandal that may have occurred almost a hundred years ago would serve no purpose.

If a crime had been committed, it was too late to prosecute anyone.

Why ruin lives in the present for sins in the past?

The best outcome would be to find answers for the ancestors about a death that had left questions with both families.

Cara tipped down the screen of the laptop and leaned her head back against the pillows. Yawned. After she rested her eyes for a minute, she’d power down for the night and indulge in her secret addiction.

Reading romance novels.

The brand-new release she’d picked up in Cape last weekend was calling to her.

That wasn’t a pastime most people would attribute to a university professor, perhaps, but as far as she was concerned, reading uplifting stories about people who overcame daunting odds to find their happy ending was soul soothing.

Of course, it was even better when happy endings occurred in real life.

An image of Brad filled her mind, and she sighed, letting her eyelids flutter closed. Now there was a man worthy to be a hero in any romance novel.

The world around her melted away as sleep tugged her into dreamland, and she let herself drift off. How could she resist being swept away to a fantasy world dominated by a sheriff who might be destined to play a starring role not only in her dreams but in her life?

When Cara’s eyes at last flickered open, she clung to the sweet dream as long as she could. But as it faded away, she flipped up the laptop screen beside her and checked the time.

Eleven forty-five? She’d been asleep for more than two hours?

It was definitely bedtime.

She powered down, swung her legs to the floor, and carried the laptop back to the desk, the dim nightlight in one corner of the room the sole source of illumination.

As she returned to the bed, she detoured to close one of the curtains that was partially open.

Froze at the window.

Was that a light in the distance, flickering through the woods?

She sidled to the side of the glass, out of sight, and squinted through the darkness.

Yes, it was a light. And it was moving. Like the occasional lights she’d seen bobbing at night in the past that she’d assumed were evidence of Micah’s nighttime forays.

But Micah was dead.

So who was wandering about at this hour?

A ripple of unease quivered through her, and she pulled the curtain shut. Took a step back.

Should she call Brad and alert him?

No. It was too late.

If he was still working the missing children case, he had other priorities. If he’d made it home and crashed, he didn’t need to be interrupted. This could wait until tomorrow. Who ever was out there would disappear into the shadows if law enforcement showed up and began prowling around.

Before alerting Brad, she’d also bring it up to Natalie in case she happened to have an inkling of who might be roaming around her property at night.

Even if she didn’t, it was possible the intruder had no ill intent, nor any connection to Micah’s demise.

It could be someone engaged in illegal trapping, or taking a shortcut, or meeting up with a partner for a clandestine tryst. There were all kinds of explanations for the presence of a stranger on the property that didn’t necessarily involve serious criminal activity.

Nevertheless, Cara double-checked the locks on all the windows and the door, set her phone on the nightstand, and put her pepper gel within reach as she climbed into bed.

It never hurt to take precautions.

Especially when her instincts were telling her that whatever activity was taking place on Natalie’s property in the dark of night was far from innocent.

“GOOD MORNING, CARA. Did you sleep well?”

As Natalie greeted her the next morning in the study, Cara closed the door behind her and joined the older woman at their worktable.

“To be honest, no. I tossed and turned a lot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Didn’t you enjoy your evening with Brad?”

“Unfortunately, he had to cancel.” She explained the circumstances.

“I had no idea you were here. Steven and I were in the basement for about an hour around dinnertime. He was helping me look for a box of my mother’s personal items that I wanted to go through. Otherwise, I would have realized no car pulled in. You should have joined the two of us for dinner.”

“You weren’t expecting me, and I have food in the cottage.” Sort of. A frozen dinner was nothing like the delicious food Natalie prepared, but it had sufficed for one night.

“I imagine you were disappointed about the dinner. That was probably on your mind.” Natalie gave a sympathetic nod. “But I have no doubt Brad will reschedule.”

“He said he would. The broken date isn’t why I had trouble sleeping, though.” She flipped up the lid of her laptop, keeping her tone conversational to avoid creating undue alarm. “Actually, I saw a light in the woods late last night from the cottage window.”

Natalie’s mug of tea froze halfway to her mouth. “Near the house?”

“No. Deeper into the woods, in the direction of the lake. I thought you might have a clue who it could be.”

Natalie set the mug back down. “No, I don’t. No one should be roaming about on this property.”

“Could it have been a neighbor, by any chance?”

“I doubt it. I don’t see them much, but we do chat on occasion. If one of them had a reason to come onto my land, they’d ask. Are you certain you saw a light?”

“Yes. It was like the ones I saw once in a while when Micah was still here. I always assumed it was him.”

“Late at night?”

“Yes.”

Natalie shook her head. “I doubt that was him. He didn’t like the dark and tried to avoid being outside at night whenever possible.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me, after I mentioned once that I was concerned about what I’d do if I ever needed help at night.

He also said anytime I wanted him, all I had to do was come out on the back galérie and bang a pot with a metal spoon, and he’d hear me—day or night, because he slept with the window cracked.

Sound does carry a long distance out here, and since he was tuned in to the environment, I felt confident in that plan. ”

“In that case, who’s been wandering around on your property?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you think Steven may have noticed lights during any of his visits?”

“It’s possible. He does stay up later than I do. But he holes up in his room to answer emails and read financial reports. My cousin lives to work.” She wrinkled her nose. “We can ask him about the lights during our break, though. He’ll be up by then.”

Her cousin slept until almost ten?

Natalie must have read the surprise on her face because she chuckled. “Steven tends to be a night owl. He has to get up early in St. Louis, so he likes to sleep in whenever he’s here.”

Ah.

A kindred spirit.

“I can relate. My siblings are always teasing me about my night-owl tendencies.”

“Perhaps you two have more in common than you thought.”

She let that pass.

“After we ask Steven about the lights, I’d like to let Brad know what I saw, especially given what happened to Micah.”

“By all means. If there’s nefarious activity happening on this land, I want it fully investigated.” She adjusted her glasses. “Shall we dive into the journal?”

“Yes.”

They worked steadily for an hour, and Steven was, indeed, up and in the kitchen eating a piece of toast when Cara went to get Natalie a second cup of tea and replenish her coffee.

“Morning.” He greeted her with a smile and started to stand.

“Stay put. I’m here for refills during our break.” She held up their mugs. “I do have a question for you, though.”

“Ask away.”

As she filled Natalie’s mug with water and put it in the microwave, she repeated the story she’d told the older woman.

By the time she finished, deep grooves dented his forehead. “That’s disturbing.”

“I take it you don’t have any idea who it could be.”

“No—but whoever it is, they’re trespassing.”

“At the very least.” She removed Natalie’s mug and put a teabag in the steaming water.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m wondering if they may have some connection to Micah’s death.”

“I thought the sheriff had decided that was an accident.”

She added more java to her mug from the coffeemaker on the counter. “That’s the obvious answer. But there are a few things about the death that bother him, so he’s digging deeper.”

“Huh. I wonder what he found that raised a red flag.”

“I don’t know. He didn’t share any details with me.”

Steven sipped his coffee, his expression dubious. “It’s hard to imagine anyone targeting Micah. I can’t believe he had any enemies.”

“I know. It’s strange.”

“Well, if there’s anything dangerous happening around here, you may want to forgo your solo treks around the property.”

She sent him a rueful grin. “The sheriff gave me the same advice, so I’ve confined my walks to this area and the driveway. But I miss hiking around the lake.”

“Whenever I’m here, we can hike around the lake together. Safety in numbers, as they say.”

“That would be great.”

“Shall we meet up today after you finish with Natalie?”

“Yes. I’ll drop my laptop off at the cottage, change shoes, and wait for you by the path. Eleven fifteen?”

“I’ll be there.” He winked and raised his mug.

She smiled, then headed back to the study, a mug in each hand.

But as she walked down the hall, her lips flattened.

Since neither Natalie or Steven could think of any legitimate explanation for someone to be on the property at night, it appeared that whoever was wandering about was here for illicit purposes.

Whether their presence had anything to do with Micah’s death remained a question. One Brad would want to address.

She’d have to let him know about this new development ASAP.

So the minute she and Natalie finished for the day, she’d head back to the cottage and call him while she waited for Steven to come by for their walk.

And with warnings from both of the men who’d entered her life echoing in her mind, she was definitely going to avoid the path that led to the lake in the future unless she had company.

Because with compromised hearing, she was an easy target for someone who wanted to sneak up on her undetected. While her implants were a godsend, it wasn’t always possible to distinguish and identify stray noises.

Besides, the sounds of nature during her walks often resulted in a cacophony of clatter unless she turned down the volume on her processors, and if she did that, she’d be even more vulnerable.

So this girl was playing it safe from here on out.

Until Brad found all the pieces to Micah’s puzzle, she’d hunker down in the house or her cottage and confine her walks to circuits of the yard or treks with Steven whenever he was around.

And as long as she followed that prudent plan, what could possibly go wrong?